Beyond us (all of us #3) 18+

N I N E

D I E S E L

The sliding glass opens and I squint at my mother as she steps out onto the pavement. Her arms cross over her black satin cloaked chest when she smirks at me, subtly shaking her head at what I'm doing.

Picking apart a fresh nug of weed until it falls into perfect flakes on the tray. Ready to fill the blunt wrap Trenton managed to swindle an old lady into purchasing after school under the impression that he was twenty one and left his wallet at home.

If I tried that, she wouldn't have believed me. Not even for a second. But the fucker is so tall you'd be less likely to believe he's seventeen. Plus I'm not gonna smile and flirt with some one who looks like she's a second away from calling the cops.

Mom hums like she's biting her tongue, which is a smart move on her part. She knows those slick little comments that seem to just jump up her throat without warning have only gotten the few men in her life on her bad side.

I mean it's not like this is news to her. I've never hidden the fact that I smoke weed. Even the first time I did it, which I think is virtuous of me. I'm honest. I don't hide shit, and the disapproving looks she's always giving me aren't going to make me start.

"Hey, Mom," I mumble, my tongue shamelessly dashing along the paper. The way she stood by and watched the whole process, I almost wonder if she's actually just curious.

Who the fuck knows with her.

"Hey, Mrs. C," Trent says and his warm tone is a hot knife cutting through cold, thick, buttery tension. He lifts his head and sits up straight the way he does whenever she's present, and not like he's about to get high as fuck with me the second she goes back inside.

I'll never understand why he desperately wants to keep up this squeaky clean image in front of my mom. She's not so clean cut herself, but that's a story for another day.

"Hi, boys." She clears her throat. "How was your first day back?"

"Same as the ten other first days of school," I say blandly. "Boring, long, insignificant."

I hate when she does this. Asks pointless fucking questions she knows no one wants to talk about.

Let's be real. No one really cares how school went. Not even her.

She sighs and I'm sure her eyes searched and scanned the flat wispy clouds above our heads without me even looking at her.

"My day was pretty good actually," Trent says and I side eye him, hoping it's enough of a message to shut the fuck up so she can leave.

"I'm glad, Trenton." She weakly smiles at him. "Well I just started on dinner, so finish up this...activity, in about thirty minutes, will you?"

I wave my hand at her and eagerly tuck the blunt between my lips as she heads back in the house. I don't miss the way she pulls shut the blinds while I pat my pockets for my lighter like we're committing a crime she'd rather not witness.

She's such a hypocrite. Me smoking weed is no different than her pounding wine all day. Everyone is so judgmental, I don't think there's enough mirrors in this house because if there were maybe people would stop to take a look at themselves.

Dad sat in his usual spot at the table while Trent and I set the dishes down. Mom went back and forth bringing in hot serving platters and bowls, pitchers and condiments. And while she served his plate he didn't bother to look up from his work phone once.

I guess it'll be one of those dinners. One of the quiet one's, where Mom asks me empty questions, like she doesn't know her own son enough to make a fluid conversation with him. One of the one's where I respond with one word answers hoping she'll finally just ignore me like Dad has been lately.